


Game Over (Kiss Me to Continue)

by undelicate



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: A bit of spicy dialogue but nothing explicit, Alternate Universe - College/University, Enemies to Sort-of-Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Gaming, Light Angst, M/M, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22030006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undelicate/pseuds/undelicate
Summary: “What do you think you’re doing,” Minho began calmly.“What does it look like I’m doing,” Jisung said without looking up. “I’m getting ready to go to my next class.”“You know exactly what I mean.”“I admit I have a brilliant mind, but I am not, in fact, a mind reader.” Jisung finally met the other’s eyes with a tight smile. “Enlighten me.”Minho smiled back with a barely concealed impatience despite the evenness in his tone. “I’m not sure if you’re really Felix’s type, you know?” He softened his voice and blinked slowly. “Just putting it out there so you don’t end up wasting your time.”“How noble of you,” Jisung said while stuffing his laptop into his messenger bag, “but I’d rather let Felix be the judge of that.”---------AKA Jisung and Minho are idiots who vie for Felix’s heart while becoming entangled in a game of their own.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know, [Mentions of] Kim Seungmin/Lee Felix, [One-sided] Han Jisung | Han/Lee Felix, [One-sided] Lee Felix/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 75
Kudos: 1058





	Game Over (Kiss Me to Continue)

“The gods have smiled upon me,” Jisung said as he burst into the dorm room.

Hyunjin was lying in his bed and didn’t spare a glance, scrolling through his phone with one hand while giving a lazy thumbs-up with the other. Jisung crossed the room and pounced onto Hyunjin’s bed, latching himself to Hyunjin’s side and swinging a leg over the other’s hip.

“I don’t trust your personal hygiene enough to be this close.” Hyunjin shoved his roommate unceremoniously to the floor. He then sighed with an eyeroll. “Fine, what’s the big news?”

Unfazed, Jisung sprung back to his feet and raised his fists in the air. “Lee Felix is single!”

Hyunjin responded with a deadpan, “Okay.” Something seemed to click in his brain. “Wait, isn’t he dating Seo Changbin?”

“Nope, they recently broke up.” Jisung plopped down on his own bed and sighed, beaming at nothing in particular, then turned to Hyunjin with a more resolute expression. “Now’s my chance. I’ve been wanting to ask him out since last semester, before that rat Changbin stole him from right under me.”

“One,” Hyunjin glared pointedly at Jisung, “you can’t ’steal’ a person. Two, are you really in any position to call someone else a rodent?”

Jisung smiled and folded his arms behind his head on his pillow. “Not even your shitty attitude can ruin this day for me. My future has Lee Felix and his gorgeous freckles written all over it.”

“Well then,” Hyunjin said as he put his earphones on, “good luck with that.”

* * *

Jisung had gotten up extra early on Tuesday morning to make himself presentable for the day ahead. He took a long hot shower (his “biannual cleaning” according to Hyunjin), styled his hair carefully with pomade, and ironed his favorite dress shirt.

Despite the chilly rain that descended upon the campus, he walked with an extra spring in his step to class. When he arrived at Lecture Hall C for his World Architecture course, he scanned for a certain blond boy and smiled when he found Felix seated in the middle section.

His smile faltered when he spotted another boy sitting next to him, leaning in far too close to his crush.

“What the…” He squinted to identify the person in question who wore a fluffy light pink sweater with a white collared shirt underneath and whose head was tilted so that his bangs covered his eyes. He and Felix were having an amicable conversation, judging by how the latter’s face lit up with enthusiasm. The pink sweater boy pushed the hair out of his eyes and—

“Lee Minho,” the voice of nearby student landed on Jisung’s ear. They were chatting with a friend, both fixated on the same boy across the room. “I heard he filmed a cat food commercial when he was in New York last summer.”

“He’s so fucking dreamy,” the other friend sighed. “He and freckles boy are so cute together.”

“God, I could write a thousand fanfics about them.”

Jisung suppressed a gag as he waded through the rows of seats, keeping his eyes locked onto the fluffy-sweater-clad wrench thrown into his plans. Lee Minho’s unsubtle methods of flirting consisted of hair flips, easy giggles, and bumping his knee to Felix’s with every other word.

“Amateur,” Jisung said under his breath. It seemed the gods were pranking him today after all.

Undeterred by this new disadvantage, he took a seat directly behind the two boys, angling his head to eavesdrop.

“I’m terrible at sniping,” Felix was saying, “so I stick to tanking. It’s more fun to blast someone’s face open up-close with a Cygnus Fifty-Five anyway.” They were apparently talking about the popular online shooter game _Overrun_.

“That’s awesome,” Minho said with an eager grin. “My reflexes aren’t that good so I prefer to pick off enemies from a distance. I bet you’re really good at the game.”

Felix smiled sheepishly. “Not really. I get crushed in PvP and I’m pretty much dead weight in co-op since I’m always underleveled.”

“It’s not a reflection of your skills,” Jisung jumped in. The two boys turned their heads to him in sync. “The game is deliberately set up so that you have to grind for like a million hours to get rare loot drops to even have a chance of leveling up past fifty.”

“Oh, hey Jisung!” Felix greeted cheerfully. “You play Overrun too?”

Meanwhile, Minho’s smile evaporated the moment he laid eyes on Jisung.

“Yup,” Jisung said, cocking his head to accentuate his jawline. He had gone through a brief phase where he was addicted to the game and nearly failed several exams. Clearly, though, it was worth it if it served as a stepping stone to winning over Felix’s heart. “I don’t play as much lately, but I try to squeeze in some matches when I can. I’ve been so busy cramming these days I barely have time to look presentable.”

“Well, I think you look really nice today,” Felix said with his usual warmth.

Instead of feeling shame for baiting Felix into complimenting him, Jisung positively beamed. “Thanks. You look nice, too.” He glanced at Minho whose glare could melt metal.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Minho’s gaze flickered to Jisung with a warning, then turned to Felix with doe eyes. “You should join my clan, Lix. We do tournaments every weekend. Don’t worry about being good enough or anything like that, we all do it to hang out and have fun.”

“Cool, I’ll think about it,” Felix said. He brought his hands to a clasp. “Oh shoot, where are my manners—Hyung, this is Jisungie, he’s a sophomore. And Jisung, this is Minho hyung, he’s a year ahead of us.”

Jisung and Minho’s noncommittal grunts overlapped each other, to which Felix smiled in satisfaction.

The professor walked through the door, snuffing out the buzz of conversations in the room as all students focused their attention ahead.

Jisung leaned forward and picked off a stray blond hair that was hanging off Felix’s shoulder. Felix looked back with a nod of thanks and Jisung responded with a toothy grin and a thumbs-up, making sure his actions were caught in Minho’s peripheral vision.

After the lecture had ended and most of the students had left, Minho approached Jisung who was gathering up his things.

“What do you think you’re doing,” Minho began calmly.

“What does it look like I’m doing,” Jisung said without looking up. “I’m getting ready to go to my next class.”

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“I admit I have a brilliant mind, but I am not, in fact, a mind reader.” Jisung finally met the other’s eyes with a tight smile. “Enlighten me.”

Minho smiled back with a barely concealed impatience despite the evenness in his tone. “I’m not sure if you’re really Felix’s type, you know?” He softened his voice and blinked slowly. “Just putting it out there so you don’t end up wasting your time.”

“How noble of you,” Jisung said while stuffing his laptop into his messenger bag, “but I’d rather let Felix be the judge of that.”

He stood up to walk out, but Minho remained where he was, blocking his path in the aisle. Jisung stepped up to Minho as closely as possible without touching the other to prove that he was not intimidated, tilting his head, virtually nose-to-nose with him. When Minho refused to budge, Jisung stuck out his lips in a pucker and Minho immediately jerked back in horror. Jisung brushed past him with a sarcastic salute over his shoulder and exited the lecture hall.

* * *

“I need a new game plan,” Jisung said as he scrolled intently on his laptop. Two hours ago he had typed _sexy men’s fashion_ into Pinterest and got sucked into a vortex ever since.

Hyunjin paused writing his paper and glanced up from his own laptop. “Game plan for what?”

“You know. To win him over.”

“Who are you trying to impress this time,” Hyunjin sighed.

“You know who my heart is set upon.” Jisung scowled at his roommate, offended by the notion that his affections could waver.

“Then why don’t you just ask Felix out?”

“I’ve gotta play the long game.” Jisung modified his keywords to: _super sexy men’s fashion_. “He just ended a relationship, remember? If I go for it now I’ll look like an insensitive ass and he’ll never give me a chance. Plus, I have a new complication to deal with.”

“The fact that you’re not his type?” Hyunjin snorted as he focused back on his assignment.

“How dare you, I’m everyone’s type.” Jisung let out a groan as he stretched his cramped back muscles. “But getting back to the actual point. That sneaky bastard Minho from my World Architecture course is trying to get into Felix’s pants.”

“Wait, Lee Minho?” Hyunjin broke into a shrill giggle and shook his head. “Dude, sorry but you don’t stand a chance against him. There’s a reason his nickname is ‘Lee Statue’.”

“Which is why I’m forming a new strategy,” Jisung said through his teeth. “Thanks for your support, by the way. Jesus.”

“Should I even waste my breath by telling you to be yourself?”

Jisung broke into genuine laughter for the first time that day. He clicked ‘save’ on a Pin that caught his eye. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

* * *

Friday rolled around and Jisung woke up extra early again in preparation for the second session of World Architecture. The whir of his hair dryer woke up Hyunjin, who sat up on his bed and did his best to glare at his roommate with sleep lodged in his eyes. “What the hell am I looking at.”

“A goddamn ’80s heartthrob is what,” Jisung replied with a wink and grin. Hyunjin groaned. Jisung was in a snug-fitting Pac-Man tee and an even snugger pair of jeans (“distressed in all the right places,” he insisted). He wrapped a bandana around his head, letting his bangs hang down, and finished off the look with high-top sneakers.

“Minho has the soft-boy-with-sweater-paws market cornered,” Jisung explained as he fastened a neon blue sports watch over his wrist, “so I needed a style to stand out against him. I think I’ve found my angle.”

Hyunjin flopped back onto his pillow. “Can’t you just pierce your eyebrow and get a neck tattoo and call it a day?”

“Too clichéd,” Jisung said, “and too _Changbin_.”

A layer of frost had coated the campus that morning, prompting him to shrug on his leather jacket.

“Congrats, you look like a vintage fuck boy,” were Hyunjin’s words as Jisung walked out the door.

He sprinted across campus and was pleasantly surprised that he had arrived before either Felix or Minho. He took a seat near the front and eyed the door in anticipation.

Soon enough Felix walked in, and Jisung waved him over.

“Good morning,” Felix greeted as he sat down next to Jisung. Even in this early hour, he radiated warmth and beauty.

“Hey Felix,” Jisung said, gaze dancing across the other’s freckles.

“Cool shirt!”

“Thank you,” Jisung felt his cheeks heat up. “It’s authentic vintage.”

They began bonding over how difficult their latest assignment had been, when Felix startled Jisung with, “Minho hyung!”

Felix motioned for Minho, who had just walked in through the door, to sit next to him. Jisung could sense Minho’s split-second hesitation before settling down to Felix’s right, while Jisung remained on the left.

Jisung scrutinized his competition. Today Minho was wearing a solid crewneck sweater with sleeves that extended to his fingertips, plain-fitted jeans, and casual sneakers. The look was dead simple, but on Minho it was unfairly fashionable.

Jisung’s mouth was drawn in a pout as Felix was now chatting with Minho to his right, and this time he couldn’t wedge himself into their conversation so easily.

After several minutes, Felix turned to Jisung again. “Minho hyung and I were just talking about our favorite fantasy RPGs. To be honest I only know Skyrim, but you’ve played a bunch, haven’t you?”

“I guess,” Jisung said weakly. It was true that he was an avid fan of the game genre, but he was in no mood to fanboy while playing the third wheel.

Felix giggled at something Minho said, and Jisung looked to his right to catch Minho slyly flipping him the bird behind Felix’s back, a middle finger peeking through his overlong sleeve.

Jisung tied the bandana tighter around his head and focused on the class ahead.

* * *

_“Hyung, if anything happens to Mochi I will personally feed you to a wood chipper and fertilize my lawn with your remains.”_

_“Don't worry, Jeongin! I just need him for the morning.”_

_"Never, ever let him out of the carrier."_

_"If I don't bring him back safe and sound I'll jump into the wood chipper myself feet first."_

Jisung recalled the earlier conversation with his friend as he sat in the lecture hall, shuddering at the thought of becoming human mulch.

Today he continued his ’80s theme by donning a brown leather bomber jacket and aviator sunglasses—a look heavily borrowed from Maverick of _Top Gun_. The other students threw him quizzical stares and at one point someone stage whispered a comment that included the words “sunglasses”, “indoors”, and “douchebag”.

He quietly flipped his aviators to rest on the top of his head.

His anxiety dissipated, however, when Felix walked through the door and Jisung once again invited him to sit next to him.

“What’s that?” Felix pointed to a small carrier bag on Jisung’s desk, hidden from open view behind his laptop. It had a mesh screen and something round was moving inside.

Jisung made a _shhh_ gesture with his finger raised to his lips and partially opened the bag to reveal a golden hamster.

Perhaps smuggling in a hamster to class was a desperate move, but Jisung knew the importance of a conversation piece.

“Cute!” Felix whispered. He leaned over to Jisung’s desk to better view the furry creature; Jisung flushed at the sudden proximity. Felix’s hair smelled of lavender shampoo and Jisung was tempted to bury his nose in the golden locks that were mere inches away.

“I see you brought your cousin,” a voice startled Jisung from behind. He whipped around to find Minho sitting right behind him with a lopsided grin.

Normally Jisung would have taken it as a compliment—he knew his cheeks were his cutest asset and the rodent comparisons were inevitable—but coming from Minho, it was pure evil, and Jisung refused to dignify it with a response.

“Can I hold it?” Felix asked with a hopeful smile.

“Of course!" Elated by his crush's excitement, Jisung mentally flicked away Jeongin's earlier warning.

Jisung opened the carrier bag all the way and picked up the hamster with one hand, while with the other he gently pulled Felix’s hand toward him. Felix’s tiny, delicate hand that felt soft and warm in his own.

Flustered by the contact, Jisung’s grip on the hamster loosened and before he could blink, the furball was scurrying onto his lap and down his legs. It zigzagged onto the aisle toward the other students, eliciting screeches of “rat!” and other expletives. Jisung chased after it in a state of panic but it traveled too fast and erratically, weaving through the rows of chairs and feet and leaving a trail of screaming students behind.

He was so focused on pursuing the little fugitive that he almost tumbled into a sweater-clad body.

“Whoa, careful,” Minho said, holding something to his chest to protect it from impact. He slowly revealed the hamster cradled in his hands.

“Mochi!” Jisung reached out for it, but Minho took his hands away.

“What’s the magic word?”

Jisung held back an expletive of his own and forced a smile. “Please?”

“I think you can do better.” Minho reveled way too much in the situation.

Jisung’s hands curled into fists over the hem of his jacket. “Pretty please?”

Minho pretended to think it over, sticking out his lower lip in a pout. “Mm... Could use a tad more desperation.”

Jisung took a deep breath and internally counted to five. He stepped closer to Minho, relaxing his hands to place them on the other’s shoulders. Minho froze as he silently mouthed _what the fuck?_

“Minho-sshi,” Jisung spoke low and breathily while giving his best puppy dog eyes, “thank you for saving Mochi. Now I would be further grateful if you could give him back to me so that I can place him in the safety of his carrier.” He lightly squeezed Minho’s shoulders, fingers sliding into the soft cashmere. “Please?”

For a moment it seemed as though Minho was at a loss for words, before he snapped out of it and dumped the hamster into Jisung’s hands.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Minho ducked out of Jisung’s grasp like he’d been electrocuted.

“Did that nasty hyung get his cooties on you?” Jisung cooed at the hamster as he turned away, petulance seeping back in his tone. “We’re gonna disinfect you, little guy.”

He was about to throw another insult over his shoulder at Minho, but the mental image of a smiling Jeongin next to a wood chipper shut him up. He pushed his sunglasses back down on his face to mask his hesitation, and in the same moment he thought he saw Minho’s ears turn the slightest shade of pink before the older boy stormed off in the other direction.

* * *

The night before his next lecture, Jisung dreamt that he, Felix, and Minho were riding in a hot air balloon across a majestic sky. Felix had wanted to go higher, and instead of releasing the sandbags from the basket they were in, he threw Jisung overboard.

His subconscious was not subtle.

The fitful night’s sleep caused Jisung to arrive late to the lecture hall where Felix and Minho were already huddled together in the corner. To Jisung’s surprise, Felix immediately stood up to approach him.

“I’m so sorry again about what happened last time,” Felix began, baring sad kitten eyes, "with the hamster and all."

Jisung fiddled with the strap of his messenger bag and lightly patted the other’s arm. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t your fault.” _You are perfect and can do no wrong_ , he inwardly added.

“Thank goodness Minho hyung saved the day.” Felix looked back at Minho sitting in the corner in a chunky cable knit sweater.

Jisung’s smile was more of a sneer as he waved at Minho, who returned the gesture with equal contempt.

“Your fashion choices have been… really interesting these days,” Felix said with a polite grin. Jisung had been so distracted all morning he forgot he was cosplaying Bender from _The Breakfast Club_ , sporting a denim jacket over a flannel shirt and black jeans with matching boots. Felix was mostly staring at his black leather fingerless gloves, though.

“Is it weird?” Jisung said, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “The gloves are weird, right?”

“No, they’re cool,” Felix quickly clarified. “They’re practical enough that you can wear them and type on your laptop, but still be able to punch a dude in the face if needed.”

“I’m feeling a need right now,” Jisung muttered through his teeth in the guise of a smile, side glancing at Minho.

“Hey, speaking of face punching,” Felix said eagerly, “what’s your Overrun account name? If you’re free anytime this week we should play together.”

Jisung’s face lit up. “Seriously?”

“Sure! Actually, let me give you my number and we can text each other’s IDs and stuff. I’ll add you to my gaming friends list.”

They went on to exchange phone numbers and Jisung’s heart did a triple somersault at the newly created contact ( _[sunshine emoji] Yongbokie [sunshine emoji]_ ). Not only did he procure Felix’s number after almost a full semester of pining, but he would soon have access to his gamer ID—surely, a shortcut to his heart.

* * *

“Why are you looking like that?” Hyunjin said. He was sitting on his bed with his legs bent forward and a textbook balanced precariously on his knees.

On the other side of the room, Jisung was lying on his stomach with his face squished against the pillow, his eyes glossed over in a lazy smile and an arm dangling off the bed, tracing patterns on the floor. “Like what?” 

“Like… _that_.” Hyunjin’s nose scrunched up. “Whatever it is, it’s gross. Stop it.”

“Am I not allowed to be happy? Am I not allowed to be in love?” Jisung’s floaty voice mirrored his expression. “I got Felix’s gamer ID.”

“So like, does that mean you reached first base in gamer nerd talk?”

“PixieLixie915,” Jisung sighed, ignoring Hyunjin’s question. “Isn’t it the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?”

“I’m sure that means something to somebody who isn’t me.” Hyunjin faintly shook his head and returned to his reading.

A soft _ding_ came from Jisung’s laptop and Jisung scrambled off his bed to his desk. A pop-up message appeared on his gaming client screen.

_PixieLixie915 has accepted your friend request._

“Yes!” Jisung sat down on his chair and put on his gaming headset, vibrating with excitement. He cooed over Felix’s avatar which was a cute cartoon dragon wearing heart-shaped sunglasses.

_PixieLixie915 has invited you to play Overrun._

Jisung accepted the invite and was transported to a match that seemed to have recently started. A familiar cacophony of guns, explosions, and combo attacks flooded his ears.

He joined as Mara, a glass cannon of a character with access to the deadliest weapons in the game. She was suited for a high-risk high-reward play style, and Jisung loved the adrenaline rush of ambushing an enemy and dodging a counterattack at the last second, even if it did mean getting wiped out more than he liked.

“Jisung, glad you could make it!” Felix piped up in between bursts of rapid gunfire. He was playing as one of the tank characters. “We’re up against a pretty tough team, so we’re counting on you to deal some major DPS.”

“You got it, Lix,” Jisung said with a surging confidence to match his heart rate.

It had been a minute since he played the game, but muscle memory enhanced by adrenaline took over, and soon enough he made two kills from the opposing team. Jisung’s veins started to run cocky and he jumped into an open area of the map with the intent of drawing out the remainder of enemies. 

He was rounding a street corner when he heard a death moan and a body thudding to the ground behind him. He turned around to find the corpse of an enemy player lying mere steps from where he stood.

“Han Jisung, how about finding some cover and not dying on your team.”

Jisung froze at the new voice crackling in his ear.

The kill feed on the bottom of the screen read: _Minhoiscute killed xXJoKeRXx_

“You need to find some cover, there’s another enemy trailing your six,” Minho insisted in monotone. “And you’re welcome.”

“Nice shot, hyung,” Felix cheered. “That guy was probably their main damage dealer too. We got this!”

“What’s he doing here?” Jisung was still stuck on the fact that Minho had just swooped in and saved his virtual ass.

“We’ve been playing together for a few days,” Felix said, oblivious to Jisung’s confoundment. “Hyung’s really good. Saved my butt more than a few times.”

“Brilliant,” Jisung muttered with an eye roll. “Just brilliant.”

It also stung more than a little to know that Felix had shared his gamer information with Minho first.

“I can practically hear you rolling your eyes, Han,” Minho said with a hint of amusement. Jisung stilled at that, and he would have laughed had the words come from anybody other than Lee freaking Minho.

Felix’s team converged back to their home base on the map in preparation for the next round of assault, and Minho revealed himself as Cepheus, a character who operated at mid to long range with a sniper rifle. How typical, thought Jisung, that he would linger in the back line while Jisung and the other teammates did the dirty work of more aggressive combat.

Over the course of the match, however, it became dreadfully clear that Minho was good—really good. He knew the strengths of his character, and he shone the most when the team was under pressure, picking off opponents like sitting ducks when their base was being threatened.

The match was a victory for Felix’s team. Jisung achieved the highest score and kill count, but he couldn’t help feeling like Minho was the real MVP, albeit grudgingly.

Out of morbid curiosity he checked out Minho’s profile page; his avatar was a photo of an orange and white tabby cat wearing a beret. It clashed with the usual adjectives Jisung assigned to Minho such as _evil, arrogant, insufferable_ . Not… _cute_.

“Good game, guys,” Felix said. “I gotta go now and finish up some work.” He paused as if to sign off, then blurted out loudly into the mic again. “Oh, and there’s gonna be a special Overrun event tomorrow and I heard the reward will be limited edition armor mods! The three of us should totally team up again. Ooh, our team name can be The Death Squad Trio! What do you think?"

“Uhh,” Jisung’s brain was slow to grasp Felix’s suggestion. “Sounds great?”

A beat of awkward silence followed. “Yeah, fine,” Minho mumbled.

There was another painful bout of silence as Jisung’s mouse cursor hovered over Minho’s gamer account. The beret-wearing kitty in Minho’s avatar seemed to stare at him in judgment. With a final groan, Jisung submitted the request, telling himself _this is for Felix_ . He cringed at the _ding_ that came moments after.

_Minhoiscute has accepted your friend request._

* * *

To neither’s surprise, Minho and Jisung becoming “friends” in the Overrun world didn’t magically translate into real life. They remained civil online during their game runs with Felix, while their shared lecture course on Tuesdays and Fridays remained a battleground on which to vie for the boy’s attention.

Three weeks had passed since Jisung laid down the gauntlet, and so far the battle yielded a stalemate. Jisung was counting on Minho to ask Felix out first and subsequently getting shot down, but it seemed the older boy was happy to bide his time.

Jisung had peeled himself away from his desk long enough to do some much-needed research at the library, when he spotted a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. He peered around the bookshelf to see none other than Lee Minho hunched over a book and chewing the eraser end of a pencil. He wasn’t in his usual fluffy sweater, instead donning an oversized sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head and tucked behind the ears. Jisung wasn’t sure what to make of this new image of the enemy, but he didn’t dwell long on it.

He returned to scouring the shelves for his research subject. A brief time later, his attention turned to the soft scrape of chair against wood, and he caught Minho bringing the book he was reading to the front check-out desk. His hood fell down as he did so, revealing the soft head of black hair that Jisung had so often glared holes into. He noticed Minho’s hair was getting longer in the back, and he silently dared him to grow it into a dumb mullet.

(But who was he kidding—Minho could probably pull that off and Felix would love it.)

He watched as Minho lingered at the check-out desk, his gestures growing a bit more animated. With curiosity tugging at him forward, Jisung walked to the front area, close enough to hear the words exchanged but staying beyond Minho’s field of vision.

“I don’t understand,” Minho’s voice was low and strained. “I definitely returned that book.”

“I’m sorry, but our records show otherwise,” the librarian said. “Your loan privileges are restricted until you can either replace the item or pay the replacement fee.”

“But you’re asking for an arm and a leg. I don’t have that kind of money on me now.”

“Again, I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do at this point.”

Minho’s shoulders sank; Jisung had never seen him in such a dejected state. Jisung chewed the inside of his cheek and came to a decision.

Minho walked back toward the rear of the library to presumably return the book, and as he passed by Jisung, the younger grabbed his hoodie sleeve and gently pulled him in between two bookcases.

Despite Jisung’s light touch, Minho was visibly startled, his dark eyes widening. “Jesus, you scared me!” he hissed.

“Shh,” Jisung whispered, “I think I can help you out.”

Minho scowled a questioning look. “With what?”

“I overheard your predicament just now.”

Minho’s softened his scowl, but his eyes remained untrusting. “Of course you’d be so nosy." He paused. "What’s this about my predicament?” He air quoted the last word.

“I’ll check out the book for you,” Jisung said with a light shrug.

“And why would you do that?”

“You may be a pain in the ass, but you deserve to uphold your GPA as much as anyone else.”

Jisung spoke barely above a whisper, but his words sounded too loud in the narrow space they occupied. Minho’s close proximity unsettled something in his stomach, but he pushed it to an unseen corner of his mind.

He almost laughed at the way Minho rolled his eyes.

After a beat of silence, Minho replied with his gaze cast downward, “Um, thanks. I mean, your snide commentary aside, I’d appreciate that.”

At this point Jisung realized he was still holding on to Minho’s sleeve. He released the fabric and took half a step back, and Minho glanced away as he handed his book to Jisung.

“Meet me outside the library door,” Jisung said. He went to approach a different librarian so as to avoid raising suspicion.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I owe you one,” Minho said minutes later as Jisung stepped out of the room and handed him the book. “I really needed this for my paper.”

“Well,” Jisung drawled out the word, “there _is_ something you could do for me, now that I think of it.”

Minho carefully studied Jisung, and distrust seeped back into his face as if to suggest he should have seen this coming.

“It’s just… I don’t think you’re really Felix’s type, you know?” Jisung began lightly. “So if you could kindly back off from him, that would be great." He cocked his head to the side for emphasis.

Instead of lashing out in anger as Jisung had expected, Minho turned quiet and his eyes became heavy with something that the younger couldn’t name.

"I’ll return the book by early next week," was all that Minho said, his voice hushed.

Jisung watched the other walk away. With the book procured hooked under his arm, the line of Minho’s shoulders remained sunken.

Jisung chewed on his lower lip, slightly disoriented by the concern brewing in his stomach. Had he gone too far?

* * *

“Dude, you went too far.”

Hyunjin was sitting in his swivel chair with his head propped on an elbow, while Jisung lay sprawled on his bed tossing a smiley-faced stress ball between his hands.

“But he’s _Minho_ ,” Jisung argued, his voice coming out weaker than planned. “It’s our thing to be assholes to each other. It’s practically a game at this point.”

The scene had played out comically in his head: Jisung would bait Minho, and Minho would lose his shit, leaving Jisung with the upper hand. This was their thing. They had been acting the role of petty archenemies and pushing each other’s buttons. What was one more button pushed?

He couldn’t stop replaying the look in Minho’s eyes before the older boy walked off.

After weeks of being an arrogant ass, why did he suddenly have to go and act… not like _Minho_?

“Yeah well, call it a game all you want,” Hyunjin spoke matter-of-factly. “But he isn’t a bunch of pixels on a screen that you can hurt without consequence.” He shrugged as he swiveled back to the open book on his desk. “He’s a person with feelings.”

The words were as plain as day, yet Jisung frowned at the incomprehensibility of it all.

* * *

Felix was out sick from the next lecture, so Jisung had no reason to sit anywhere near Minho.

He ended up in the corner of the back row while the older sat near the front and on the opposite side of the hall. They were in diametric positions, but Jisung’s gaze kept falling to Minho slumped in his chair, who had his elbow propped on the desk and the loose sleeve of his sweatshirt obscuring his profile.

Earlier that morning Jisung had styled himself in the iconic fashion of _Dirty Dancing_ , having blissfully forgotten the library incident, but when he walked into class and accidentally met Minho’s eyes, he wished that he had stayed in his dorm.

With no Felix to flaunt himself around, Jisung removed his boots and rested his sock-clad feet on the empty chair in front of him, uncaring of how ill-mannered it seemed. Racked with a growing guilt every time his eyes turned to the boy in front, he wasn’t sure if even Felix’s bright smile would have lightened the weight.

Later that evening, Jisung was in his dorm and staring at his laptop screen with his hands folded under his chin. Minho’s username had popped up on his friends list twenty minutes ago.

“Fuck it,” Jisung said under his breath and typed into the chat window, his usually nimble hands stiff from uncertainty.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _hey_

Jisung didn't time how long he waited before a reply came, but it was long enough that he made himself an avocado sandwich in the meantime.

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _?_

Jisung nearly choked on the half-sandwich stuffed in his cheeks, and he proceeded to type as quickly as possible, as if trying to outrun the cringe of embarrassment and remorse that had plagued him the past few days. It was the closest he could come to saying _I’m sorry_.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _i know you said you’ll return the book next week but keep it longer if you need_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _technically we’re allowed to check stuff out til the end of the semester so_

Another excruciating few minutes passed. He finished the other half of his sandwich.

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _im not gonna keep it for that long_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _but thx_

The last word, in all its horribly abbreviated glory, brought a wave of relief to Jisung. His hesitant fingers hovered over the keyboard before typing again.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _np_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _if you have time rn do you wanna do a speedrun on the new maps_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _i’ve been trying to get lvl 60+ loot drops_

This time the reply came faster:

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _ok. hold on a sec ill invite some other ppl_

Jisung stared at the message that popped up on his screen minutes later:

_Minhoiscute has invited you to play Overrun._

He exhaled slowly and clicked accept. “This is so weird.”

* * *

_Weird_ didn’t even begin to explain Jisung and Minho’s relationship after that. What was supposed to be one-time thing as a peace offering somehow snowballed into a near-daily ritual.

At first their cooperation was limited to indulging Felix, self-appointed leader of The Death Squad Trio. When they weren't openly vying for the boy's attention—Jisung flaunting his high kill count and Minho putting his dazzling sharpshooter skills on display—they worked together with gritted teeth to keep Felix alive (for someone who liked to tank, he had little sense of self-preservation).

Then on the Saturday afternoon following his "apology", Jisung saw Minho’s name pop up on his friends list, and he muttered “fuck it” into the ether once more and sent him a game invite.

Minho hadn’t declined an invitation since.

It didn’t take long to learn that they naturally fit each other’s play styles, to the point where one could frequently predict the other’s moves. Aside from the odd exchange to call out enemy positioning or to strategize against higher-level opponents, they more or less communicated through the sweet sounds of gunfire and combo explosions.

Sometimes, however, Minho made an unbelievable kill and Jisung couldn’t help but verbalize his awe.

“That was fucking beautiful,” he had once blurted out with too much enthusiasm (and cringed afterwards).

After a long pause, Minho replied with a small, “Thanks.” He sounded almost bashful, and Jisung was glad he wasn’t the only embarrassed one.

More often than not, Jisung ended up the score leader after each match, and he knew it was largely due to the support of the other’s gameplay and his penchant for saving Jisung’s ass at the last minute. Minho gave up yelling at him to find cover after the umpteenth time, and Jisung didn’t even pretend to feel bad. A leopard and its spots, and all.

Whether or not Minho was his archnemesis, it was all for the glory of the grind, Jisung reasoned. A more efficient grind meant leveling up faster, which meant better loot, which ultimately meant more shiny stuff to decorate his character with (as good a reason as any to invest hundreds of hours into). And it just so happened to be a convenient way to wind down after an intense study session or to simply blow off steam. Minho never asked him about how his day went, but on days where Jisung was more stressed than usual, Minho seemed to pick up on it and stick by his side a little closer, the aim of his rifle a little deadlier as Jisung charged forward with hotheaded abandon.

Above all, however, playing with Minho was _fun_.

In their less intense matches, they played without a single utterance; were this a normal friendship, one could have called it a comfortable silence.

But nothing about this was normal, or comfortable, because as soon as they stepped in the real-life arena of Lecture Hall C on Tuesdays and Fridays, an awkward tension replaced the tentative camaraderie they had built through their avatars. They could barely look each other in the eyes, their dignities preserved by the buffer of Felix seated between them (though it did prick at Jisung whenever Minho sat too close to Felix).

And as soon as they found each other again in their online arena, they embraced a different kind of tension: the thrill of tearing through a blazing path guided by the sixth sense of a teammate.

Occasionally, they were accused of hacking because some were convinced that no duo could dominate so thoroughly otherwise.

Jisung had made an impressive triple kill early on in a match, and a player from the opposing team cried foul.

“It’s obvious you’re cheating, you small-dicked piece of shit,” an enraged dude bro voice erupted.

Fifteen seconds later, Minho’s bullet kissed him through the jugular, prompting the player to rage quit.

“Aww, you defended my honor, hyung,” Jisung couldn’t help but tease. “You really do care.”

Minho snorted. “My actions are in no way an endorsement of your dick size, be it impressive or otherwise.”

Jisung laughed, ignoring the strange fluttering in his chest. “It’s impressive, believe me.”

He didn’t know why those words flew out of his mouth, but he immediately winced and felt his face heat up in mortification.

He wished that Minho would volley a scathing retort, or laugh, or curse him out, anything instead of letting the silence stretch out.

“Movement up ahead,” Minho said eventually. Jisung was grateful, if still a bit lost at sea, and he turned off his mic for the remainder of the game.

* * *

“Who are you playing with?” Hyunjin asked over Jisung’s shoulder around a mouthful of cereal.

“Get your cornflake breath away from me,” Jisung said with no heat. He was in the middle of a raid, playing with Minho as usual. But Hyunjin didn’t need to know that. Ever.

“It’s always the same person,” Hyunjin said. “I can tell because of the sparkly sweater vest their character wears.”

Jisung silently cursed Minho for choosing such a conspicuous armor mod. “It’s a tactical ammunition vest,” he said anyway, feeling oddly defensive.

“And you always have a stupid grin on your face when you play.” Hyunjin obnoxiously shoved a spoonful of cornflakes into his mouth. “Are you cheating on Felix?”

Jisung’s face suddenly felt warm. He hoped the username _Minhoiscute_ on the corner of his screen wasn’t visible from Hyunjin’s angle; he sat up straighter and scooted toward his laptop in a subconscious effort to block his view.

“Shut up,” Jisung said, his voice tinged with real annoyance now. “You’re breaking my concentration.”

Thankfully, spectating video games was on par with watching paint dry on Hyunjin’s scale of interests, and he returned to his own desk to finish his cereal.

* * *

Jisung had been feeling extra peppy on a weekday and completed his daily tasks early, which left him a whole evening for him to do whatever he wanted. Hyunjin tried to lasso him into going out with friends, but Jisung remained planted in his chair.

“I’m waiting for Felix to come online for a tournament," Jisung explained, which was technically true, even if Felix was showing up less often these days. It couldn’t be helped if Minho happened to be there as well.

Jisung squinted at the screen when Minho logged on later that evening.

“What happened to the kitty?” Jisung asked into his headset without thinking.

“What?”

“The kitty with the beret in your avatar. You changed it.” Jisung was now staring at Minho’s updated avatar, a generic picture of Cepheus, Minho’s main hero character.

“Stop stalking my profile, Han.”

“Whatever,” Jisung sighed, reminded that small talk was not A Thing they did. “Just choose a map and let’s go.”

The ensuing game yielded a close call of a victory. In a rare turn of events, Jisung had saved Minho multiple times, though he wasted a completely good “dude-sel in distress” joke on Minho who had the gall to not laugh.

“It’s Soonie,” Minho said after they had loaded back to the post-match screen.

“Huh?”

“From my old profile pic. She’s my cat.”

“Oh, okay.” Jisung was unsure of how to respond to the oddly timed comment, so he stuck with something that was easy and true. “She’s cute. I like your old pic better.”

Silence settled back down between them, and Jisung resumed swapping out armor and weapons on his character screen. A ding came from the chat window, and Jisung switched to it to see that Minho had uploaded a photo of himself holding the same orange and white cat, Soonie. Her stripes were more pronounced without the beret.

But what struck Jisung—aside from the fact that Lee Minho just sent him a freaking selfie—was Minho’s unfamiliar expression: open and relaxed, with the corners of his mouth drawn up in a muted smile. Jisung was thrown off by it, and whatever words he could have formed stuck to the inside of his mouth like burs.

Worried as to what his voice might give away, Jisung typed into the chat window instead.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _cute_

As Jisung loaded into another game, it dawned on him that he should’ve clarified that he had strictly meant the cat, now having missed the window of opportunity to amend. He silently cursed himself and focused back on the bursts of pixels on the screen.

Later that night, long after Hyunjin had fallen asleep on his side of the room, Jisung logged onto his gaming client to see if he could tempt anyone to join him in one final match before heading to bed himself. He scrolled through the list of grayed-out avatars and stopped himself at the familiar picture next to Minho’s username: an orange and white cat in a beret. Minho had changed his avatar back to Soonie.

Jisung blamed the strange pull in his chest on exhaustion and closed his laptop.

He crawled into bed and waited for slumber to wipe his mind clean, except the image of Minho’s disarmingly sincere expression lingered whenever he closed his eyes.

Clearly he fucked up somewhere along the way.

He had his priorities all wrong. The time he could have used to advance his main quest of winning over Felix he had essentially wasted on a meandering side quest with Minho. He had to make up for lost time.

* * *

"What the everloving fuck," were the first words out of Hyunjin when he walked into the dorm room.

Jisung turned around in his chair and ran a hand through his damp hair, showing off the deep cherry red color that had completely replaced the natural black. "Is that a good 'fuck' or a bad 'fuck'?" Jisung smiled tentatively. "What do you think?"

Hyunjin dropped his backpack on his bed and walked over to his roommate, examining his freshly dyed locks with hands on hips. "Not bad."

Jisung lit up, knowing how stingy Hyunjin was with praise and that his comment was essentially a stamp of approval.

"Wait, is that why the bathroom looks like a murder scene?" Hyunjin said with an annoyed squint.

Jisung slightly grimaced. "Don't tell the RA?"

"Right, because absolutely nothing about you would give it away otherwise." Hyunjin ruffled Jisung's hair to make his point. Jisung swatted him away, both boys breaking into laughter.

When the room became quiet again, Hyunjin shifted his scrutinizing gaze from Jisung's hair to his face. "Is there something that prompted this sudden change?" he began mildly. "You're not going through some kind of crisis, are you?"

That damn selfie of Minho flashed before Jisung, but he kicked it aside to the same murky corner of his mind and conjured the sweet face of Felix instead.

"I... It's to get someone's attention," Jisung said, picking at a hangnail.

"Felix, huh? Does he even like red?"

Jisung shrugged, then winced as he pulled too hard at the hangnail. "Guess I'll find out sooner or later."

Hyunjin dragged a hand down over his face and made a frustrated noise. "When will you end this weirdass mating ritual and just ask him out already."

* * *

“I’m gonna ask out Felix today,” Jisung said early next morning, rubbing a towel through his freshly washed hair. He quickly eyed the mirror, pleasantly surprised by how the deep red complimented his golden skin tone.

Hyunjin was burrowed in his bed but was awake enough to lazily raise his fists in the air. “Fucking finally!”

An hour later, he was staring into Jisung’s wardrobe closet as if it were a chasm of despair.

“No,” Hyunjin said, “don’t do it.”

Jisung pressed his mouth in a solemn line. “This is my last option.”

“This ain’t it. It really isn’t. You’re stronger than this!”

“My fate… my happiness... depends on it.”

Jisung took a deep breath and removed a pair of skinny black leather pants from a hanger, and tossed it onto his bed.

“You’re gonna regret this.” Hyunjin’s words were more of sympathy than a warning.

Jisung nodded with a shrug. “Probably.”

Hyunjin chewed his lower lip in thought then walked over to his own wardrobe closet. A few moments later, a piece of black fabric landed on Jisung’s head.

“The hell—” Jisung blurted out as he peeled it away from his face. His eyes grew wide at what they beheld, a vintage Guns N’ Roses tee shirt adorned with a skull and a downward-pointed dagger running through it, surrounded by a circle of roses. The sleeves were cut off and had frayed fashionably at the seams.

“You’re letting me borrow this?” Jisung looked like he won a small fortune. “You wouldn’t even let me breathe on it.”

“It fits your ’80s theme or whatever, doesn’t it? Just—take it before I change my mind.”

Jisung beamed, knowing how much Hyunjin treasured the shirt, the latter having dubbed it his ’lucky in love’ shirt because he’d worn it on the day he met his current girlfriend.

With Hyunjin's reluctant help, he squeezed himself into the black leather pants (“It’s not too late to turn back,” Hyunjin had implored as Jisung fought with the zipper) and slipped on Hyunjin’s lucky shirt, and for the first time in awhile, he was satisfied with what he saw in the mirror. He tucked the hem of his shirt loosely into his pants, enhancing his already enviable shoulder-to-waist ratio.

When he arrived to class, Felix was sitting at the end of the first row. Jisung sat down next to him and threaded his fingers through his cherry locks in anticipation.

“God, I was up until like four a.m. writing this stupid paper,” Felix greeted with a yawn. He rested his chin on his arms that were folded on his desk, his watery eyes barely focused ahead, let alone on Jisung’s outfit or hair.

Jisung swallowed the disappointment that rose to his throat. Suddenly he was second-guessing his choices: the leather pants were practically cutting off his leg circulation, and chills ran down the exposed length of his arms from the drafty lecture hall. And he wasn’t so sure he didn’t overdo it with the hair, maybe it looked awful and Felix was sparing his feelings by not bringing attention to it.

At that moment, Minho walked in and selected a seat on the opposite end of the row, curiously bypassing Jisung and Felix. He sported a plain zip-up hoodie and dark sweatpants that made him blend in with the other students.

Jisung knitted his brows together. Had he finally given up on their little rivalry?

Minho placed his backpack on his desk and removed his hoodie to reveal no fancy sweater underneath. Instead he was wearing a gray athletic tee shirt, plain as anything, until Jisung’s gaze traveled down Minho’s torso and the younger’s eyes widened in… not _horror_ exactly, but the sight nearly made him choke on air regardless.

Minho’s shirt was cropped just above the belly button, revealing a view of his bare waist that Jisung had not ever anticipated to behold.

He was the ultimate ’80s heartthrob. He had just checkmated Jisung at his own game.

“Whoa.” Felix was decidedly more wide awake now. “What’s Minho hyung wearing?”

Jisung couldn’t gauge the enthusiasm behind those words, but apparently Minho had the rest of the class’s attention as well, with more than a few heart eyes and giggles being thrown his way.

Minho started to unpack his bag when Felix called him over. Jisung’s stomach flipped inside out inexplicably. Minho hesitated for a moment before grabbing his things and settling down next to Jisung; there was nowhere else he could go since Felix was at the very end of the row.

Now Jisung found himself sandwiched between Felix and Minho, stuck in a pair of clingy leather pants and a shirt of an ’80s band he’s never heard, feeling his face rapidly match his hair color from the humiliation of being outplayed by his nemesis...

Or maybe it was something else entirely, because he didn’t know humiliation to be accompanied by a warm buzz thrumming in his veins.

Throughout the lecture barely a word sunk into Jisung’s brain. He typed out his notes during pockets of coherency, but the words melted off the screen as his eyes struggled to resist the pull toward Minho, hyper-aware of the older boy’s knee almost touching his own, the casual tilt of his head, the subtle twitch of arm muscle whenever he twirled his pen.

At one point Minho sent his pen flying after a twirl gone wrong and it landed by Jisung’s foot. Jisung instinctively reached down to retrieve it at the same time as Minho, causing their bare arms to brush against each other.

Jisung recalled when he had held Felix’s hand in his own, and the touch felt nothing like this—an electric jolt so intense he almost saw white.

Dyeing his hair had been a mistake because clearly something in the bottle seeped into his scalp and contaminated his brain. There was no other plausible explanation for the state of panic he was in, all because of one boy in a shirt.

When class ended, Minho stood up to pack his things, giving Jisung a front-row view (literally) of his exposed stomach and the faint shadows of toned muscle peeking through from under the cut-off fabric. At some point during the lecture Minho’s sweatpants had conveniently slid down further to reveal the lines of his hip bones.

Minho shrugging his hoodie back on ended the show and the younger tore his gaze away, focusing so intently on the desk in front of him he feared he might burn a hole through it.

"Nice hair," Minho spoke quietly enough that Jisung almost missed it. Before Jisung could squeak out a reply, Minho was heading up the aisle to greet one of his friends.

“Are you going to a rave or something after class?” Felix’s voice shook Jisung out of his daze and met him with a soft smile, eyeing the red hair. Jisung should have been happy for the attention; his stomach sank a little instead.

Eager to quiet the buzzing that coursed through his veins, Jisung reminded himself of the task at hand and took a deep breath. _Felix, will you do me the honor of going on a date with me?_

What came out of his mouth instead was, “How come you don’t play Overrun anymore?”

“Ah, sorry about that,” Felix said, rubbing the back of his neck. His normally open expression turned shy. “I didn’t mean to abandon the squad, but I’ve been… busy lately.”

“With projects?”

“Sort of.” Felix picked at the lint on his sleeve as his ears turned a slight shade of pink. “That, and I’m kind of seeing someone.”

Jisung’s stomach dropped further, and he braced for the wind to be knocked out of him, but he surprised himself by keeping his internal balance. “Kind of?”

“Well. Definitely seeing someone.”

“Oh,” Jisung said with a half-smile. His chest grew heavy with an ache that spread to his fingertips. “Who’s the lucky person?”

Felix retracted his hands into his sleeves in a moment of fluster, and he waited for some more students to pass by, making sure no one could overhear. “Kim Seungmin. You know of him, right?”

The rolodex inside Jisung’s mind spun until it brought a face to the name. Kim Seungmin, dandy boy extraordinaire, whose idea of a bold fashion statement was a striped sweater vest. He had met Seungmin just a handful of times through shared social circles, but Jisung had come away with a good impression. ("I wouldn’t necessarily trust him to water my plants, but for some reason I’d trust him with my life," Jisung had once told a mutual friend.)

“Sure, I know him,” Jisung said through the murkiness in his chest. “Congratulations, Lix.”

“Thanks.” Felix’s ears were beet red now. “I hope you and Minho hyung don’t mind playing by yourselves. I’m sure you do way better without me, anyway.”

“Come on, Felix, don’t say that. I enjoy playing with you!”

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m always third-wheeling around you guys. You have to admit you two carry every single match. Anyway, I thought you’d be happy to play just with him? You know, alone together?”

Jisung’s mouth formed an ‘o’ to rebut that, but no words came out, leaving him looking like a confused fish.

“What makes you say that?” he asked when his neurons were firing again.

Felix sighed, his lips drawn in a sympathetic smile. “I know you and hyung like each other.”

Jisung nearly choked. “Wh—Huh?”

“It’s pretty obvious,” Felix spoke with the patience one afforded a child, “what with you guys being all shy and awkward around each other. I mean, isn’t that what all _this_ is for?” He gestured up and down Jisung’s body. “To get his attention?”

Jisung was starting to impersonate a baffled fish again.

Under any other circumstance he would have vehemently denied such an accusation, but he feared his haste to debunk Felix’s theory would lead to spilling his guts about his stupid pissing contest with Minho, which would’ve been untimely what with Seungmin in the picture now.

Felix briefly placed a hand on Jisung shoulder. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s why I hooked you two up through Overrun. So you could, you know, take your time and get to know one another, while having fun.”

Jisung thought back to the times where Felix had started a game only to abandon them mid-match, citing some vague excuse pulled out of a hat, and lassoing Minho to sit with them in class, all the while playing the role of matchmaker instead of the courted.

Jisung stared at the empty space next to Felix’s head, scrambling to catch up with the implications of… whatever this mess was.

“Wait, does Minho know about you and Seungmin?”

“Well, yeah,” Felix looked unsure as to the point of the question. “I told him a few days ago.”

Jisung turned over this new bit of information in his head. If Minho knew Felix was seeing someone, then who was he trying to impress today?

He turned around and across the room spotted Minho talking with Chan, a senior who radiated charm through his dimples and mop of wavy black hair. Having the reputation of a sweetheart, he was often seen with a string of admirers across campus.

Minho chuckled at something Chan said while pushing his hair back. The gesture was a mirror image of the moment Jisung first saw him with Felix, in that fluffy pink sweater.

The math added up: Chan was attractive, Minho was attractive, and they were attractive together.

Felix’s phone dinged. “Ah, it’s Seungminie,” he said after checking the screen. “He’s waiting for me at the library.”

He and Jisung exchanged goodbyes and the latter was left staring at the desk again. If Minho had been a monkey wrench to Jisung’s initial plans, then Felix was a bomb strapped to an anvil that was dropped directly on Jisung’s head.

* * *

The Death Squad Trio was placed officially on hiatus with Felix being the first to drop out (preoccupied with his new beau, if his Instagram updates were anything to go by). Minho began to make himself scarce as well. He never declined an invitation in the few times that Jisung caught him online, but he wasn't playing with the same intensity as usual. Jisung couldn’t help but wonder if the other wanted to avoid him. But realistically, nothing about this was unusual; midterms were approaching and a different kind of real world grind took over.

Back in World Architecture, Minho no longer sat near Felix and Jisung, instead having found a new kinship with Chan. Jisung abandoned his mission to become the ultimate ’80s heartthrob and now attended class in a hoodie like any other respectable student. Minho no longer wore his oversized sweaters either (which were incongruous with the late April weather), having swapped them out for casual button downs whose sleeves were of the appropriate length.

Felix looked at Minho seated near the back with Chan, then at Jisung, and shrugged apologetically. Jisung couldn’t muster the will to explain that he was not, in fact, pining over Minho, so he let Felix weave whatever fancy tale he wanted in his head.

But if he were being honest, maybe he was pining a little bit, only because the idea of Lee Minho had become routine to him, like a persistent hum in his head gone unnoticed until silence had taken its place. Sometimes he caught himself listening for the old sound.

Minho reappeared online on the weekend after Jisung’s last Spring midterm, and Jisung shot him a message, muscle memory bypassing any shred of logic.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _how were your exams_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _i did ok i guess_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _u?_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _i lost like 5 lbs and all of them were my brain cells_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _cute of u to think u have that much brain matter_

Jisung snorted. The banter felt unfamiliar but not uncomfortable, and it gave him the confidence to broach the subject they’d avoided for the past two weeks.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _so felix and seungmin. they are a thing now !_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _yup_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _how are you taking the news_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _felix is happy, thats all that matters_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _true enough_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _besides hes not the only person on campus_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _ive moved on, maybe u should too_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _i guess_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _who’s the lucky guy or gal this time? you should tell me so we can avoid crushing on the same person again ㅋㅋㅋ_

For a brief moment, Jisung considered prodding him about Chan, but Minho responded before he could form the words.

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _i guarantee u that wont happen again_

Jisung wasn’t sure if that was an assurance, resignation, or threat. He wished he could see Minho’s expression: to discern if his eyes glinted with sincerity, or to listen for a mischievous inflection.

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _gotta go. sorry i cant join a game right now but maybe later?_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _sure. later_

Except _later_ didn’t happen. Minho had all but vanished again, and the only proof of his existence was the sound of his occasional laughter from the back of Lecture Hall C. Jisung kept his eyes forward and resisted the urge to turn around, fearing he might do something stupid like ask him how he’s been, or tell him that Overrun wasn’t nearly as fun now and he’s died an embarrassing amount of times without him as a teammate.

Weeks passed and the cherry red of his hair began to give way to the black of his roots. Jisung abandoned Overrun and immersed himself in the predictable schedule of university life.

Everything was back as it should be, Jisung told himself, and during the day it was easy to believe it. The heartache that Felix had left behind had mostly subsided, and he was grateful to call the other boy a friend. He did more than fine in his classes and he was lucky to have the pillar of Hyunjin’s friendship. But by night, he could no longer ignore the stirrings of a new ache in his chest. Even in his dreams, he was plagued by a longing that had coiled itself around his heart and whose name he was afraid to know.

* * *

“Dude, has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” A male student’s arm snaked around Jisung’s shoulder.

“Nope.” Jisung half-smiled and half-grimaced as he removed said arm from his body. “I’ve never heard that in my life. Ever.”

After weeks of being holed up in his dorm room, Hyunjin had finally convinced Jisung to attend an off-campus party. In that moment Jisung was reminded of why the general concept of “outside” was overrated.

To dodge the crossfire of drunken prattle, Jisung found cover behind a couch on which a couple was making out. He sat on the floor and leaned against the stained upholstery while holding a plastic cup that had seen at least half a dozen drinks.

Alcohol was _grossly_ overrated, he thought as he curled up on himself the next morning, no match for the hangover that greeted him. On the other hand, he was almost glad to have an excuse to skip World Architecture that day. The worst of the headaches had faded by noon, but he wouldn’t have minded becoming a permanent fixture to the bed.

“Jisung, it’s almost three o’clock,” Hyunjin said. “You can’t stay in bed all day.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” Jisung weakly retorted. He pulled up the covers higher on his chest and threw an arm over his eyes.

Hyunjin stood up from his desk, grabbed a water bottle from their mini-fridge, and walked over to Jisung lying in bed. He balanced the cold bottle on Jisung’s chest. “At least drink some water.”

Jisung laid the water bottle down beside him, keeping his arm on his face. “I don’t deserve to be hydrated.”

“Hey. I noticed you haven’t played your video game in awhile,” Hyunjin said in an unsubtle attempt to get his roommate’s ass out of bed.

“S’not fun anymore,” Jisung mumbled.

“It’s only fun with Minho, huh?”

Jisung lifted up his arm and looked at Hyunjin with a furrowed brow.

“I know you were playing with him,” Hyunjin said before Jisung could question him. He huffed out a laugh, but his expression was gentle. “I do have eyes, you know. _Minhoiscute_.”

Jisung groaned as he lowered his forearm back over his eyes. He didn’t even know where to begin to explain his feelings, or the ridiculous backstory that came with it. So he distilled all of it into one truth he did know: “I’m a colossal idiot, Hyun.”

“Nah, you’re a normal amount of idiot.”

“Thanks.” Jisung’s eyes welled up hot, not because he felt stung but because those were perhaps the most comforting words he’d heard in awhile.

“I’m starving actually, let’s get something to eat.” Hyunjin gently bumped his knee to the side of Jisung’s bed and offered out a hand. Jisung peeked up from under his arm, a tear gathering in the corner of his eye. “Whatever’s on your mind, you can tell me about it over sushi and cheesecake.”

“In that order?” Jisung’s mouth was drawn up in a hint of a smile as he took Hyunjin’s hand.

“You can have cheesecake first, if you want.”

* * *

Jisung didn’t believe in the concept of sixth sense until he met Minho, so it was fitting that when he felt compelled to log onto his gaming client the next day, the avatar of a certain beret-donning feline was already on his screen.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _hi_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _hey_

Jisung panicked trying to think of a valid reason for having messaged the other boy literally within two seconds of seeing him, before he settled on the obvious.

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _since i missed lecture yday do you think i can borrow your notes_

**_KingQuokka:_ ** _i would ask felix but his writing is pretty much illegible_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _sure_

**_Minhoiscute:_ ** _ill be at my dorm by 5 today. u can pick it up anytime after. kowon bldg #317_

* * *

Jisung slowly mouthed _three-one-seven_ as he read the number in front of him, repeating it in silence almost like a mantra to convince himself that this really was Minho’s door.

“Hey,” Minho greeted shortly after Jisung’s knock. He was in a simple tee shirt and sweatpants and already had his notebook in his hands.

“Oh. Thank you,” Jisung said as he received the notebook that was passed to him.

Minho nodded and stepped back to close the door, but stilled when he noticed the other boy fidgeting where he stood in the hallway.

“Um, you need something else?” Minho asked.

“I… Can I come in for a sec?”

Minho blinked a couple of times before opening the door farther and stepping aside. Jisung followed in and softly closed the door behind him. He took a moment to take in the room; it was a single dorm, tidy save for the array of textbooks scattered on the desk. An oversized pig plush lay on the bed, and Jisung would have laughed had he the air in his lungs to spare.

Minho stood leaning against the desk with his arms crossed. He arched his brows slightly as if to signal Jisung to get on with whatever he needed to say.

The younger boy stared at the notebook in his hands for any signs of guidance, then glanced back up. “Uhh…”

In that moment, Hyunjin’s face appeared before him like some mulleted fairy godmother, repeating the wisdom he had imparted over sushi: _Just look him in the eyes and ask him out._

“I miss playing with you,” Jisung blurted out instead. The older boy uncrossed his arms, clearly not expecting those words.

“I like playing Overrun with you, a lot, and it hasn’t been the same without you,” Jisung continued with his gaze shifting to the corner of Minho’s desk. “You’re a pretty good partner to grind with—” He paused to cringe at how that sounded. “I mean, grinding for experience points… to level up in the game, that is.” He felt his face heat up at an astonishing rate while his voice fell to a whisper. “Shit, you know what I mean.”

Minho moved to sit down on the edge of his bed and stared at him wordlessly.

Jisung braced himself and pushed through the silence. “Look, I know you like someone already and I don’t know if you’ve asked them out yet or anything.” He took a deep breath before looking Minho in the eyes. “But in case you haven’t, do you wanna maybe go on a date?”

Minho’s mouth parted open slightly, closed, then opened again to speak. “With you?”

“Do you see anyone else here?” Jisung laughed weakly as his gaze broke away.

He was met once more with silence, and when it stretched across several beats, a small wave of panic set in. “I—Fuck. Sorry. Please forget I said anything.” He ran a hand down the spiral of Minho’s notebook and gave it an awkward tap. “Thanks for this. I’ll bring it back by morning.”

He gripped the notebook tightly in one arm and made towards the door, but Minho’s voice stopped him.

“It’s you.”

Jisung turned around and slightly furrowed his brow in confusion.

Minho was sitting cross-legged on his bed now, picking at the sweatpant fabric on his knee before he looked up at Jisung. The faintest shadow of a smile was on his lips. “The person I like is you.”

Jisung’s eyes flew open as he pointed at himself, incredulity coloring every inch of his being. “Me?” 

“Do you see anyone else here?” Traces of the usual petulance lingered in Minho’s tone, but his eyes softened into a new expression: half-teasing, half-cautious.

Jisung remained frozen in place, and he wasn't sure which was louder: the hammering of his heart in his ears or the detonation of questions going off in his head. “Wait, you actually _like_ like me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well—yeah,” Jisung huffed out another faint laugh. “Considering how we, you know, started out. And it seems like you were doing everything possible to avoid me for the past month. Both online and in real life.”

Minho quirked up the corner of his mouth, his expression still subdued. His ears were turning a bold shade of pink and he looked downward to fiddle with the bottom hem of his tee. “I didn’t think you’d ever like me back, and I didn’t want to repeat history. Pining over someone I couldn’t have.”

Jisung’s breath hitched at Minho’s honesty, and he set aside the notebook he’d been holding and crossed the room to kneel down in front of Minho. Jisung gently placed his hands over the outward bends of the other boy’s knees and looked up.

“You can absolutely have me,” Jisung said, not caring how ridiculous he sounded. He was done with ambivalence, with circling around feelings, with hiding behind a pixelated avatar or a flimsy notion of a heartthrob.

If there was any lingering trepidation or doubt, it fell away from Minho’s face right there and then, and he met the other’s gaze with an expression that Jisung recognized—the same openness from his picture with Soonie.

“It’s a date, then,” Minho said softly, his hands settling over Jisung’s own which were still on Minho’s knees. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. “On one condition.”

“Yeah?”

“Will you be wearing the leather pants?”

Jisung broke into a toothy grin. “Only if you wear the crop top.”

* * *

“I’m bored.” Jisung plopped down on his boyfriend’s bed and rolled over onto his back, hugging the pig plush to his chest. “So bored, hyung.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Minho deadpanned from his desk. His attention was fixed on the platform game he was playing on his laptop.

Jisung let out a small whine and made towards his target. He straddled Minho’s lap, facing him to drape his arms over the older boy’s shoulders, and he leaned in and tilted his head, almost touching noses.

“Move your bigass head,” Minho complained without heat as he craned his neck to see past the boyfriend-shaped obstacle. He peeked beyond Jisung’s ear just in time to watch his game character fall into a pit of spikes. “Yah!” he laughed. “You made me die and now I have to redo the whole level.”

“Whatever, sounds like a you problem.” Jisung shifted himself closer and planted soft, lazy kisses along the other’s jawline. “Let’s play another game.”

Minho’s voice broke just the slightest. “And what would that be?”

Jisung pulled back to let his lips skim over Minho’s as he spoke. “It’s called _Drop Whatever You’re Doing and Make Out With Your Super Sexy Boyfriend_.”

“Sounds dumb. Never heard of it,” Minho teased.

“My memory tells me otherwise,” Jisung said with a pout. “In fact, you’re somewhat of an expert at it.”

Minho pressed a kiss to the corner of Jisung’s mouth. His voice was late-night low and rumbled along Jisung’s spine. “I don’t know, I’m gonna need you to walk me through the tutorial again.”

Jisung chuckled as he poked Minho in the chest. “What, and make me do all the work?”

Minho retaliated by tickling Jisung’s sides, prompting Jisung to shriek and squirm on his lap. Jisung fell over with his legs hooked around Minho’s thighs, taking the older down with him, and they tumbled to the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Minho was on top of Jisung now, propping himself up on his elbows so as to not completely crush the younger. Jisung looped his arms around Minho’s waist. Despite his earlier plea to make out, he was content to simply stay like this, with Minho’s body a warm and comforting weight against his own.

“Well, this is new,” Minho laughed softly. “What game are we playing now?”

“I don’t know,” Jisung said as he wrapped his arms tighter around Minho, “but I win.”

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Yes, Overrun is a blatant parody of Overwatch lol. I've never actually played OW though (please don't sue me Blizzard)
> 
> 2\. Happy [early] New Year! May 2020 be kind to skz, minsung, and stays <3


End file.
